Malarin rolled her eyes. “We know you’re out there,” she called. “You might as well show yourself.”
Several long moments of silence passed. Valanandir gripped his knife, dropping into a crouch at Iadrawyn’s side. Iadrawyn appeared curious, but unconcerned. Daroandir unsheathed his sword and unslung his shield, fitting it on his arm.
A shadow appeared from behind one of the hills, moving with deliberate caution. It pulled away from the sloping shelter to reveal a tall, lean elf woman, who was unmistakably a Wild Elf. Her red hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back in a wild profusion of curls and braids, twined with bits of leather and fur. Her doeskin tunic and breeches clung to her wiry form. Startling eyes the color of new leaves peered at them with suspicion from an angular
